


Augments

by PinetreeVillain



Series: Children of the Apocalypse [1]
Category: Original Story
Genre: Body modifications, Gen, illegal surgery, referenced self harm, suggestive content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 16:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinetreeVillain/pseuds/PinetreeVillain
Summary: Nobody asked about them.He'd like to keep it that way.





	Augments

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work.
> 
> Please ignore the disaster that is the italics. I tried to fix it but I don't give enough of a crap to try anymore.

They went from the top of his neck to the base of his spine. It ran a bit along his scalp, shoulder blades, imbedded circuitry along his wrists, like electric veins. Sometimes they made his skin glow an eerie green, made the hairs in his skin stand in end. 

 

Nobody knew about them. He was good at hiding things. They were placed so conveniently he could cover them up no problem, just like the scars. The sudden appearance of a hat and a sweatshirt wouldn't be suspicious. 

 

They were there to enhance performance. Electricity already flies through his veins more powerfully and usefully than his own blood. He could turn on a lightbulb with a touch of his finger, generate enough of his own power to blow out car head lights, and manipulate computer code without having to even delve particularly deep into it himself. The augments would allow him to carry a greater charge, produce and drain more power faster. He wouldn't even need to be looking at let alone touching a computer in order to dissect it if it's secrets. He could weave his _thoughts_ into the programming, physically move it and interact with software as if it were touchable. The hunk of metal imbedded in his spine gave him the ability to use electricity to move quickly, _teleport_ if you will with new speeds his body couldn't adapt to until now. Eventually he'd be able 

 

In addition, the bit lodged in his eye gave him another handy trait. He could see electrical currents and mechanics as finely as a jigsaw puzzle right in front of you. He could turn it off with a thought, but liked it on. It made the room seem less empty being able to see all the activity. The trace did snake from his temple, stopping in a loop just below his right eye, but he could easily pass it off as make up or even a tattoo if anyone asked. 

 

No one asked. 

 

 

 

 _The day he'd gotten them had been Sunday. Simon had planned several weeks in advance. Everyone was always out on Sundays. Pines liked to go supply shopping on Sundays, usually taking Oaks with him, sometimes Valtina or Cruach if they were asked (if Pines asked someone personally to go on a supply run it usually meant they were in for some top notch fatherly concern). Simon cleverly played his cards, saw Tsubaki out the door with Cruach (probably for her weird zen sessions), and Carter and Frost away on an errand for the Counter Clock. Valentine was at work, and Oaks dragged Achilles out to get a new game. Most of them wouldn't be back until early evening, Carter and Frost wouldn't be back until tomorrow afternoon. Simon would take care in returning_ late _so he would miss dinner and, essentially, everyone._

 

_He was incredibly nervous. He wanted out of the house. He kept a cool face, ushering Pines and Patrick out with a request for more Mountain Dew before he was completely alone. He was ready. So very ready. It wasn't up for question. The timing was fortunate enough after the Blood Moon, but poor in the way of his "family" being understandable more attached than usual after those traumatic events. In short, it was incredibly difficult getting alone time long enough to make the appointment._

 

He didn't take the car, too risky. He got in a cab with a backpack containing his jacket and hat. 

 

The cab driver ended up stopping halfway down the block of the designated neighborhood and kicking Simon out because their nerves got the better of them. They leave him on the curb. Simon doesn't completely blame the driver, the neighborhood was known for being shady and dirty for every definition of the word. He wouldn't go so far as calling parts of it a black market, but it was pretty damn close. 

 

 _If a pot bellied, smelly driver in a taxi was too afraid to_ drive _there, a thin, seemingly vulnerable, attractive man with nothing but a back pack and a windbreaker for protection was so much worse. Of course, Simon was a regular here, the locals knew very very well that the last person that touched him without permission was sent to the hospital blacker than charcoal, but that didn't mean some new or ignorant hood rat wouldn't take the opportunity to mug, stab, or harass someone a lot smaller than them._

 

Simon ended up arriving 5 minutes late because he had to lose someone who tailed him for three blocks. 

 

The "doctor" (titled Lacer, a clever play on the word lacerate) complained for a good 2.5 seconds before immediately prepping him for the operation. 

 

His assistants had him strip down to his underwear, wiped down with disinfectant before laying on an equally sterilized leather bound table (if Simon could give Lacer credit for anything, it was for his desire for sanitization). Lacer asked him -with a bottle of rubbing alcohol in hand- if he had any particular likeness to his hair. Simon told him, while he wiped his back down a second time, that no, he didn't. 

 

So it was all shaved off. 

 

As the operation began, Lacer leaned in and apologized about the pain, sorry, they didn't have strong enough painkillers. 

 

Simon honestly didn't remember half of the 6 hours he spent laying there. He only knew that when he woke up, his back was in horrible pain (though, to Lacer's credit, clean). Lacer showed him a picture of his back, which he would have found even cooler if he wasn't busy moaning and biting painful holes into the leather tables. 

 

They give him a good hour and a half to cool down, melting sterile ice cubes on his back, cold rivulets turning hot from the heat of his burning skin. 

 

Then he was brought to a hard fabric covered table. 

 

Lacer grabbed one of his wrists. He asked "do you know how much this operation costs". Simon nodded in confusion. Lacer pointed to the scars and blade lines in his wrists and said "then you best quit this, you might risk damaging the upgrades". Simon grunted his affirmation and waited for it to end. 

 

Somehow, likely do to how damaged the skin and nerves were, the installation of the attachments in his wrists didn't hurt quite as much. He still blacked out though, the pain in his back physically and emotionally exhausting. 

 

At the whole thing took 10 hours. 

 

When it was done, Lacer and his assistants nitpicked his skin and new mods for a full 45 minutes with needles, monitors, and roaming hands. It was all incredibly overwhelming. 

 

Getting home could have been a suicide if Lacer hadn't personally helped him to another more local cab. He leaned stressfully forward, trying to keep his back from touching the seat or he'd've passed out for sure. As predicted, the lights at home were out, everyone asleep. He forced himself into his jacket regardless, not wanting to take the risk. 

 

 _He put so much effort into staying quiet as he made it inside and up to his room that he nearly passed out on his bedroom floor. He passed out on his bed, didn't wake up until late afternoon the next day. He told nobody to bother him_ he's doing research _for the rest of the day and tomorrow. He shooed Oaks out of his hair when she came prattling about the new game and ignored Achilles when he came to knock on his door. He found their concern mildly endearing._

 

He wore a beanie everyday, started snapping rubber bands on his skin to vent, scoffed when people asked him why he was wearing _long sleeves_ in the summer. Sometimes he'd scratch his legs. 

 

The only draw backs that the augments had was their tendency to spread. They started extending in his eyes, little faint glowing eyes that really didn't show until he used his powers. He thought little of them until they started spreading onto his face. He resorted to concealer. It did the job, but it was only a matter of time before someone started asking.


End file.
